The Good Life
by Phlogistics
Summary: He had always been dependant on his brother. Maybe too much so. Oneshot. DH compliant. [I knew we should've brought those Rainbow Dungbombs.]


_Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter._

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Today was a Wednesday, and, like on all _good _Wednesdays, it was Fred's day on the job. George quite enjoyed these days when he could simply laze around the shop contemplating new ways of giving people influenza and boils.

The twins bounded down the stairs from the flat to their shop below. Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes was wildly successful, and Fred and George thought it was only common courtesy to run the shop themselves, personally taking an interest in polluting and twisting the minds of today's youth.

"Brother, I do believe that today will gross a brilliant prophet and inspire a joy of spirit as we watch the future mischief makers of the world born before our very eyes, to soon bring about the inspired terrors of jesters and pranksters," commented George as they entered the crowded shop below, speaking loudly so as to be heard above the chaos.

"Yes, of course! And what could possibly bring us more cheer than the slow decay of proper society?" Fried replied.

"Ah, I can recall naught a thing!"

"I say neigh as well, brother! And look, I can see it occurring now! That boy there, he seems promising, don't you think? See how he's trying to figure out the composition of the Pustule Pastries!"

"So foolish! Does he think our genius can be so easily unraveled?"

"I am aghast to think he does!"

George shook his head despairingly. "We really must talk some sense into him. But as today's your day on, I must relinquish the privilege to you."

Fred bowed sweepingly to his twin. "As you wish, your Holeyness."

"Then go forth, my Scarlet Knight, and vanquish his devilish considerations!"

"As you wish, my Lision," said Fred, bowing again.

He approached the boy. "Hello, small delinquent, I see you've been eyeing our Pustule Pastries (_Guaranteed to bring about a zit-filled revenge against your would've-been valentine!_). Is there any great favor I can do you in your wonderfully vengeful contemplations?"

The boy turned to him, glared at him with a face full of pimples, then huffed and walked away towards the fake wands. Fred grinned. "Doesn't it just fill you with delight knowing that our products have made such a difference to so many?"

George, who had arrived the moment the boy left, nodded vigorously. "Of course! To know that that boy was so desperate for retaliation against whatever girl slipped him our Pastries that he would come to the source of his pain is inspiring!" He wiped away a fake tear. "It warms me inside to see children taking such actions! They're so motivated nowadays…"

Yes, George loved Wednesdays at the shop very much.

Sunday blew around as it always did, feeling chilly and unwelcoming as Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes remained closed. George would sleep in late, wishing to skip the day altogether sometimes, only to have Fred awaken him at noon, force him to eat something, and talk him into leaving the flat. "Come on, you promised you'd visit every Sunday, didn't you? Your Holeyness, you shouldn't let family down."

George, as he always did, gave in. He let Fred Apparate them there, as George couldn't quite work up the will to do so himself.

As always, the stones around them were gloomy and grey, surrounded by browning grass, and a few decorated with now-wilting flowers.

"I knew we should've brought those Rainbow Dungbombs (_They'll bring about a plethora of inventive colors and scents that are bound to repel even the must repulsive of creatures!_)," said Fred. "They would've _livened_ this place up."

George tried to smile at the pun, but it turned into something more of a grimace. He trudged through the grassy isles, dragging his feet, reluctance showing clear in his movements. Fred frowned at him. "You know, this is rather disappointing." And then he was gone. George gazed down at the stone in front of him, sadness and a bit of guilt shining in his eyes.

He sat down on the grass, flattened from the regular visits of a devoted mourner. For a moment, he said nothing, fiddling with his fingers and tugging his hair down over his missing ear. "Hello," he said awkwardly. Clearing his throat nervously, he began.

"We've been getting a lot of business at the joke shop now that summer break's started. Hogwarts students really have been getting into pranking these last couple of years, it seems. We've been getting some pretty steady customers lately, a couple of girls who've been asking a lot of questions about which volatile substances can cause small explosions and how to control them, what's the best way to make skin change colors without causing damage, things like that. They seem good, but no where near our level yet.

"So how've things been with you? I suppose it's pretty good up there, and you've got Lupin and Sirius to keep you company, and Tonks too… I bet you're up there having the time of your life, huh? Or, afterlife, I guess."

George sighed, running his hand through his hair again. He resettled himself on the base of the stone before continuing. "Hermione and Ron are supposed to be having a kid, you know… I'm happy for them, though I'm not sure how our Ickle Ronikins is going to handle a hormonally empowered book worm. But he should manage, with help, at least.

"Oh, I almost forgot! Neville Longbottom's just gotten hired at Hogwarts. Never would've thought the bloke had it in him before, but the war really changed him for the better. It did that for a lot of people. I mean, did you know that Lucius Malfoy can actually get within five feet of Dad without stopping to insult him now? You probably never thought something like that could happen…"

George's voice trailed off. For a moment, he sat in silence, fidgeting slightly, as if under heavy scrutiny. "I had a talk with Ron on Monday, when he came to tell me the good news… I think he's worried about how I'm doing."

_"It's been a while! How're things going for you lately? It seems pretty busy downstairs," said Ron with a smile. It had been a while since he had seen his brother, and speaking to him again under such happy circumstances was bloody brilliant in his opinion._

_"Spectacular! Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes in being regarded as the most innovative joke shop to hit the wizarding world in decades! We're just moments away from beating out Zonko's!" George said cheerfully._

_"Of course, you very well know that Zonko himself is no match for the revolutionary Weasleys," Fred added with a wink._

_Ron chuckled. "You seem well. Finally have someone in your life, maybe, George?"_

_"Oh, just the usual average studs," said George._

_"Not _average_," Fred retorted. "More like _incredible_."_

_Ron raised an eyebrow. "You normally wouldn't contradict yourself like that. You sure everything's really okay? You seem a little… off."_

_With a smile, Fred waved him off. "Of course, Ronikins! If George Weasley wasn't just a tad off-kilter, than what would he be?"_

_Although he was obviously not satisfied with the answer- and a bit put off by the nickname- Ron left without further question. Waving without turning to face his brother, he called, "Bye, George!" before Apparating away at the bottom of the stairwell._

"But you know there's no need for him to worry about me… I've got you to do that, right?" George stood up and dusted off the seat of his robes. "I'm sorry I was a pain about visiting you. It's just that, for some reason, I always feel very alone when I come to see you. But, really, that doesn't make any real sense, does it…?" he sighed.

"Bye, Fred."

The trip back to the shop was a short one, only taking a moment as George Apparated himself from the cemetery. When he arrived at his flat, he was greeted with the smiling image of his brother. "So, enjoy your visit, Holeyness?"

"Well, you would know, wouldn't you?" George said, smiling back.

"Of course- we're twins, we have a psychic bond! Our powers dwarf those of even the great Cassandra Trelawney!"

"Quite true, Fred."

* * *

If that was stupidly confusing, I meant that the Fred with George is a hallucination, and the parts where Fred speaks to others or to him is really just George, his manifestation of Fred speaking through him. When it seems like one is standing beside the other, it's really just George's imagination. Sorry if that was stupid… I hope someone enjoyed it, and if you did a review would be appreciated. If it sucked, I suppose you could tell me why you thought so, listing a reason that wasn't already mentioned by me. This is my first Harry Potter fic, so I hope I managed to capture the twins alright, I'm not used to writing them. 


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